The Evil Princess Chapter Two
by Never Once
Summary: Spolier for Episode 7. If The Evil Queen has a daughter in the Enchanted Forest, what's going on in Storybrooke?


The Evil Princess

Chapter One

No one knows I exist- not in my part of the Enchanted Forest. Well, perhaps they know I exist, but certainly not as _her _daughter. If anyone knows of me in other parts of the Enchanted Forest, it's because they've seen me with my 'mother', Maleficent, who 'adopted' me when her pet couldn't make her happy. Of course no one knows from whom. I do, of course. I've known since I looked in that mirror and saw the tumbling black curls and deep brown eyes. The Evil Queen-if she has a name, no one dares say it-is my true mother. The Huntsman, the traitor and liar that he was, is my father. Maleficent is the idiot around me-playing the role of mother, telling me nothing more than I was adopted. She thought I couldn't guess? She thought I wouldn't know? I'm a child to her, of 'nothing but fourteen years'. My spirit is as strong as hers, my evil as powerful as my mothers, my hatred as deep as the Dark Curse itself. Maleficent is the biggest fool of them all and I despise her with everything I am. She knows this; at least she is not a fool there. Her heart, what a fool she is to posses one, will break when she comes to my bedchamber at dawn. I will be gone. She will know where to go, whom to fight. But that is no problem of mine. Mother can defeat her, crush her as easily as a fly. Maybe then Maleficent the Stupid will see her foolishness-that heart of hers. Oh, how I hate it.

It takes only one knock. My knuckles meeting it once makes the strong, deep echo throughout the entire castle, as if I have caused a great waterfall to tumble a thousand times stronger. The knights I have always seen around her come to the door.

"You were not called upon." He says, like I am a meager beggar or the village fool.

"She knows who I am."

"She does not want to see Maleficent. Go." He starts to shut the door, but it takes one step for me to be inside, pulling my cape behind me. "I said go!" He draws a knife, so well cleaned it is reflective as a mirror.

I laugh and it causes him to falter. It is the laugh of his mistress, who I know is merely upstairs in her black gowns, plotting her revenge against that blasted Snow White.

"Who are you?" He asks, as if he has not seen me come with Maleficent, once a year on the eve of my birthday.

"A friend. Admit me to her."

"She does not wish for company."

My eyes go as cold as hers. "Take me to her." It drips with the coldest ice, the sensation only his mistress can give.

He stammers, stupid fool. "Of-of course."

"I said I don't want for company." Her back is to us; she is seated at a desk, having paused in her writing. Her voice echoes, filled with annoyance and ice. If he is killed for admitting me, so be it. A lowly guard is none of my concern.

"My queen." I say, before a response can come from his lips. It is filled with ice, but not completely. It has only the slightest hint, enough for her to turn and set her eyes upon me, the girl she knows is hers.

"I do not wish to see Maleficent." She keeps looking at me, her eyes threatening to glare into my soul, down to the heart she thinks I have.

"I'm not here with that heart filled fool."

She smiles-she always knew her blood ran in my veins. "Excuse us." The guards leave in a hurry. Her smiles are always cold, but this has the slightest warmth, something they will never see again. "Sit down dear. I believe this has been a long time coming."

She sits on an elegant chaise in front of a fire. Her dress is long and black with a high collar covered in diamonds. It sweeps the floor and has long sleeves that end at the tips of her pinkies, dripping with more diamonds. The bottom is open, her legs covered by a blood red skirt. Her hair, the midnight black that I inherited, is kept up high in a ponytail that then spills down, over her chest, ending right above her stomach. Her eyes are the deep, cruel brown I also have. Only a fool would think we weren't related.

"Are you thirsty?" She claps her hands as I sit too, but not at all where she thought. The end of the chaise, where her legs are resting, is where I decide to make myself comfortable. With a flash of icy eyes, she lets me sit down.

"One drink my dear?" Her father stands in the doorway, his old wrinkled face surprised at the sight of me. Perhaps he never knew. Perhaps he does.

"Two." She says this with no ice, but no warmth either. I'm just learning to control my voice as she does. "Now dear." She turns to me again, now that we are alone. "Tell me why you're here."

I have a straight back; my black cloak still covers my dark emerald green dress with its gold embroidery. She would not be as welcoming if I were to show any color on my person. "You know in full why I'm here. Mother." The last word is dripping with ice, the most ice I have learned to give my words.

She blinks slowly, as if she is considering not opening her eyes again. Her face has formed an expression of deep disgust. "She told you." Her voice and eyes have re-welcomed her icy soul.

"Of course not." I scoff, as if such a thing were obvious. This startles her, makes her falter for just a moment. Which of course she hates doing.

"Don't mock me!" She stands, whipping the blackness behind her, the hatred boiling up through her voice and eyes. A breeze makes the fire go out and a chill enters the room. "I'm not a fool Dusyanta."

I laugh, as if she is humorous. She pauses; again I have caught her off guard. My laugh is so much like hers, she didn't expect it. "I _know _my real name isn't Dusyanta. It means 'destroying evil'. And I _certainly_ wouldn't destroy myself." I flash her a cold smile. "Or you."

This makes her calm and she sits again, leaving the end of the chaise for me. "So how did you know? Your real name and who you came from."

I sit again. "I'm not a child. I own a mirror, I have working eyes. It took a minute, nothing more. My hair is midnight; my eyes are brown and, when I try, cruel and cold. I'm undeniably your daughter."

She smiles, icy yet warm. "Of course you're not a child. Tell me, what's your real name?"

"_That_ I do not know for sure, I simply know that for a fact Dusyanta does not suit me. I'm a daughter of evil itself. Only a fool with a heart would give me a name that means destroying evil."

She pauses for a moment. "I named you Ivy. It's the only plant without a heart-it doesn't care where is grows, if it kills another plant or makes a house crumble. I knew it would suit you."

"You let Maleficent rename me."

"I didn't know until your second birthday, when you responded to that horrible name. I almost made her give you back."

I raise an eyebrow and reach for the thin, tall glass of wine from her father's tray. She speaks openly in front of him. He knows everything. "Why didn't you want me back?"

She laughs and looks at the ceiling, then back at me with wide eyes that are supposed to hold emotion. "Ivy, this kingdom is almost mine. Snow White is off in the woods, everyone believing her dead. I'm their queen now, they have no one else. Unless, of course, they decided to overthrow me because I was whore. Do you know what that is?" She eyes harden. "It's a woman who sleeps with anyone and everyone. Her bed is never still and never empty. And for me, to bear a child, with no husband and the only man known to enter was nothing but a Huntsman-the title would mark me instantly."

My eyes go just as cold as hers. "I was nothing but an accident. The daughter of a lonely huntsman you never wanted. Why didn't you just kill me?"

She laughs, as if I've said something humorous. "Of course I wanted you. But I wouldn't raise you with the title of whore and homeless. You deserved better-much better. Maleficent wanted something new to make her happy after Aurora defeated her. A baby seemed good enough. No one was surprised. These people are now in my grip-whatever power they thought they had is completely gone. I can claim you as mine and no one will rise, no one will rumor, no horrible titles will be thrown. And you are mine. Now that you've chosen to release yourself from Maleficent and have come to me, I can claim your blood."

I smile, warmth filling it. "And I will claim yours. And then," I turn icy. "We can work on destroying Snow White."

She laughs and hugs me. "Of course. What else would we do?"

Chapter Two

The woman has blonde curls and blue eyes, with a girl the exact opposite behind her. She drives straight through down without a glance, right to the mayors house.

"Get out Anna." She parks right outside the large white house. "She'll remember you." They go up to the door together, the woman happy, the girl completely emotionless. One knock on the door and Regina's there, running her eyes up and down the woman and a smile breaking onto her face.

"Mia Hart. It's been so long. And this is," Her eyes turn to the girl, "Anna, if I remember correctly?" The girl's eyes are cold and scan this woman, wearing a gray dress and black heels, her lipstick dark pink. Not red. Wrong about that.

"That's what _she _named me."

Both women laugh and the girl remains silent, arms crossed. "Come in. Henry's at school, but I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. Are you staying at Granny's?"

Mia bites her lip and shakes her head. "No, I was going to ask to stay here. It's much more-elegant. And I was hoping to talk to you. Privately."

Regina's eyes immediately go cold. "Is the girl included in this?"

"It's about Anna."

"I told you how much I hate that name Mia."

"Well, _I _adopted her."

The mayor grabs Mia by the wrist, leads her into the living room and forces her to sit on the white couch. Anna follows, still unhappy. Regina sits in the black leather chair across from them. "Why are you here? I took special precautions in making sure your memory wasn't-"

"Erased. I know. I wasn't even planning on coming; I was planning on following the deal. _Anna_ had different plans. I found her in my car this morning with a suitcase and a map to Storybooke, Maine." Both women take a minute to glare at each other. It's the girl who breaks the silence.

"I know I'm you're daughter. And I know my name's not Anna."

They both turn to her, cold eyed Regina and startled Mia. "How?" They ask it simultaneously.

"_Look _at us Mia. Our hair, our eyes. It's the exact same. And _she _wouldn't have named me Anna. _You _did."

They look at each other. "You swear you didn't tell her?"

"Of course! All I told her was that she was adopted. I don't know how she guessed the name thing or who you were."

"It was easy." She interrupts them coldly. "You have a picture on your desk of you two together at something. She had my eyes. And my hair. And my _smile_. I knew her name, you'd told me it. And someone named Regina wouldn't have named her accidental daughter _Anna_."

Regina decides to test this. "Who's your father?"

"The sheriff-Graham. My curls are his, though you can't see them right now. I saw him when we drove in. You fooled around with him fourteen years ago? How old were you?"

She stiffens, but answers truthfully. "Nineteen. He was going to a law enforcement school a few streets over from my politician's school. It just happened." She's staring at the floor and Mia's eyebrows have reached her hairline. "He talked me out of abortion."

They look at each other then-mother to daughter. Regina with short, coarse black hair and cold brown eyes. The girl with a slicked back pony tail of matching black and equally cold eyes. No one could deny the resemblance. "What do you think your real name is?"

The girl smiles coldly. "The curse didn't affect me, remember? I'm Ivy."


End file.
